City of Fallen Angels
by TERRORLIES
Summary: Being the DayLighter is hard, Simon's sister Becca is trying to help but he's becoming distant. Mean while Jace and Clary are closer than ever, and he has to choose between Maia and Isabelle. But forever looming is a darkness that could destroy them all.
1. Chapter 1

**Well, since I'm going to have to wait for another year or so for the legit version of **_**"City of Fallen Angels" **_**I decided to just write my own for kicks, and thought while I was at it post it on FanFic. I haven't written a Fic in awhile, but here it is.**

**City of Fallen Angels:**

_**Beginnings**_

The heat prickled his arms and legs, bathing him in heavenly light. Simon shot up out of bed, flinching from the sunlight streaming through his open window. How long had it been, a month? Yeah about a month and he still woke up with the fear of burning. Simon took a deep breath and walked over to the window. The streets were busy, cars raced by, people littered the sidewalks, and though he promised himself he wouldn't feel disappointed, he did. He did this every morning, and every morning part of him wanted to see a small red head heading for his building. That of course was crazy; Clary didn't really have time to visit Simon anymore. She was a Shadowhunter, a Nephilim, and he was a filthy bloodsucking vampire.

_No._ He reminded himself, _I'm Simon, the Day Lighter, that's got to count for something. _With a sigh he turned from the window, the sun still bathing him in gold. It had been a month since Simon had taken Jace's blood. Valentine had drained him dry for the conversion ritual of the Mortal Sword, but Jace had saved him. The pompous, sarcastic guy he had hated had let him feed from him, even though he knew Simon could have killed him. He'd done it for Clary…and to save his life. The two of them were trying very hard to get along.

But Valentine was dead now, and so were all of his lies. Clary and Jace could be together, because they were not brother and sister as Valentine had led them to believe. Valentine was not Jace's father, only Clary's. Jace was not part demon, but part angel like Clary. A match made in heaven.

So much had happened, and in such a short time. In a month, he had gone from human, to undead, to almost dead dead, to day lighting undead. He had become a man. He had seen things most people couldn't even picture in their nightmares. He'd been thrown in jail in the Shadowhunter Capital; he'd seen demons, so many demons. The battle had lasted five minutes, but those five minutes were filled with horror; _creatures_ that bit men in half, _monsters_ that could make a werewolf cry in pain, _things _that could drain a vampire of blood in one sip, Simon shivered involuntarily.

His cell phone buzzed on the bedside table. He threw on a T-shirt and a pair of faded jeans, taking his phone with him as he walked into the kitchen. Rebecca was sitting at the table paper, a Starbucks coffee in his slim hand. She looked up at him her eyes still guarded, but accepting. She was the only one who Simon had told. His parents were still blissfully unaware, but this was a start. She'd come home from her freshmen year at college, enraged that their parents were being so lenient about letting him skip school and run around with Clary. And unlike his parents, Rebecca hadn't had their brains fogged by the moody, pretty and very gay Magnus Bane, high warlock of Brooklyn. The spell he had cast on them stopped them from noticing the tell tale, unexplainable differences about Simon until he decided to _come out_. Rebecca gasping and insisting he take hot shower and see a doctor immediately could not be fooled. He had made a choice then, instead of taking her to warlock he told her everything. Everything. She hadn't cried, her face hadn't distorted with disgust, he hadn't screamed that he was crazy. She just sighed, believing him for some reason, and put her hands on his and told him she'd try to be there. It was the best thing he could have hoped for.

"Hey Becca."

"Morning." She turned back to the paper in her hand. Rebecca was the child Simon had always wanted to be. She was tall and slim like him, and they had the same coloring. But where his hair was messy and incorporative, hers was raven curls down her back. Her dark eyes bright orbs next to his flat dull ones. She had perfect grades, played sports, had a lot of friends, and got a full ride to Princeton. All that used to bother Simon, but now it just made him sad. He'd watch her grow old and see her grow up, all of her achievements form her life, and he'd see her die. And he'd still be just like this. Forever.

He sat down at the table a red bottle in his hand. Jace had thought it'd be funny to put all his blood in coca-cola bottles. Though it had made his stomach turn at first, he had to admit it was better than drinking straight from the bag…or the source.

Rebecca looked at the bottle, and made a big effort to pretend she thought nothing of it. "What are you doing today?"'

"I don't know probably going to Eric's."

"Appreciate the freedom now little brother; because your hooky days are over."

He took a sip, wincing as the chilled liquid went down his throat. "So you've said." He looked down as his phone buzzed again, forgetting he hadn't checked to see who had text him before.

"I'm serious."

"Yeah, yeah." He flipped open his phone and sighed as he read it.

"Horror movie business?"

"Yup. Permission to be a ghoulish being?"

Rebecca looked at him and gave him a little smile, "Be back by seven."

"Sure." And he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Took a mental day from school today so I decided to bang out another chapter. Two in one day! I own nothing btdubs, I just love this series. Proud to say I'm reading CoB for the fourth time right now R&R. Enjoy!**

_**Heart Pangs**_

Simon saw Isabelle before she saw him. She was wearing jeans and a low cut black tank top; her raven hair blowing across her face as she waited out side of Sanctuary. They'd been…well they weren't _together_, more like hooking up when ever they needed someone; friends with benefits more than boyfriend and girlfriend. And that was okay with him, his heart just couldn't get there yet, it was too soon.

He snuck up behind her with a predator's grace, pulling her into him. She made a movement to kick him between the legs and shove his nose into his brain, but he grabbed her deadly hand as it swung up. He leaned down, his face close to her neck.

"Gotcha."

She relaxed, spinning to face him and melted in his arms. "This time."

* * *

Clary watched them from the window. It was dysfunctional, but she didn't know what to do about it. Simon was using Isabelle to deal with being dead, and Isabelle was using Simon to forget about the loss of her little brother, Max.

She turned away and walked over to the large wardrobe. She was happy for Simon, she just couldn't watch him make out with Izzy. It was one thing to watch your best friends with just any girl, but when that girl was like a sister to you, it got a bit much. That's why her and Jace tried to stay away from the PDA…well at least they were trying, Simon and Isabelle looked shameless.

She sighed, opening the wardrobe and surveying the clothing inside. One side was an assortment of normal clothes, T's, jeans, shorts, etc. Maryse had insisted that she take Clary to get new clothes because most of her old ones had been destroyed when the Ravener demon and Forsaken had destroyed her and her mothers apartment when all this had began.

The other half was full of Shadowhunter attire. Black pants, shirts, and wrist guards, anything a demon hunter could possibly need to wear when riding the world of evil. Those Jace and her mother had insisted on. Jace ransacked the Institute for old things that would fit her petite body, and dragging her out to purchase some from during their last days in Idris, the Glass City, home. Jocelyn, her mother, had finally revealed her hidden stash of Shadowhunting goodies, hid away for all of Clary's life because her mother hadn't wanted this life for her. But despite her mothers efforts it had called to her like a fly to a flame. It was all hers now, her mother's weapons and gear, her stele – though she now had one of her own.

She surveyed at the side that blended together in a mix of black, contemplating what would be best for the workout…and would make Jace stare. Selecting a low-rise pair of leather fighting pants and a tight long sleeved turtleneck, she stepped in front of the mirror and was pleased. She laced up her boots and tied her bright red curls into a tight ponytail. Her green eyes were fierce and determined as she made her way to the training room. She'd nock Jace on his ass today, and her mother and Maryse wouldn't be able to giggle at her at dinner.

* * *

Simon and Isabelle walked down Broadway, their hands intertwined. She had surprised him with a request to see a musical that morning. The hottest demon slaying babe in all of Brooklyn, maybe the world, had wanted to pretend to be a normal teenage girl and go to see a musical.

The mundies looked at the couple in awe; two tall, dark, and beautiful teens.

_Don't look now, but I think I see Edward Cullen_," A girl whispered to her friend. Simon fought the urge to tell them that real vampires didn't eat deer, they didn't sparkle, and they weren't whiney girls like in that stupid book. But the way the girl looked at him made him smile to himself. There were upsides to everything.

Isabelle leaned her head on his shoulder, giving their entwined fingers a little squeeze. "Thanks for today Simon."

"No problem Iz." And it wasn't. He really liked spending time with her. She was sassy, and funny, and a _great_ kisser. Not that he had much to compare it to, but her had enough.

"Listen," he said, "Rebecca told me to be back by seven-"

"Oh, yeah sorry I guess I'll go catch a cab-"

"And I wondered if you'd eat dinner with us." He sucked in a breath, finally having said it.

* * *

Isabelle wasn't used to actually liking boys like Simon, her type was most often tough asshole Shadowhunters, or anyone she had to fight to have. She usually played with boys like Simon, ones that were shy and nervous and would do anything for her. When she had first met him it would have been easy, but now he was different. Though still shy and sweet, he was strong and mysterious and…kinda sexy. Lately she'd been living on his sunny sense of humor and perfect smiles. She pulled away from him just enough to see his face as they continued to walk. "I'd love that." She forced him to a stop and pulled his face down to hers, stealing one more of those cold kisses. "Come on, if we don't hail a cab soon you'll be late."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey so here's chapter three! Seriously people R&R. Read AND Review. Reviews fuel the fire, and this fire seriously needs some kindling. Again I own nothing, this is only a loving fan that can't wait anymore for Cassandra Clare's final installment. I try to give voice to many characters because I they all have something to say. Enjoy!**

**AND REVIEW!**

_**Blood and Lusts**_

Rebecca scooped a huge spoonful of mashed potatoes onto Isabelle's plate, chiding her again about being too skinny and needing to eat more. Simon smiled to himself and took a swig from the coke bottle, heated this time, much better.

His mother and father, as Magnus had promised, stopped being worried about his lack of appetite…for food. Rebecca how ever wouldn't let him leave the table until he had emptied three bottles of blood; always the big sister.

Isabelle scooted her chair closer to his, their arms brushing. "This is great Rebecca," she said.

"Thanks, I had to teach myself so I wouldn't starve in college."

"Isabelle would starve," Simon took a big sip from the bottle.

"I highly doubt that, she seems like a very capable girl," She smiled over the table at Isabelle, and then half jokingly she continued, "Even if she is far to slim."

"No, she'd starve. She's an awful cook." Isabelle jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, "And she eats enough for five grown men, I swear I don't know how your brothers get anything to eat."

"Oh Isabelle dear do you live around here?" His mother spoke for the first time. Sometimes she seemed to lapse into silence, lost in herself. It was the only side effect of the spell that he had noticed so far.

"Yeah, in the apartment building near the um that old church, the run down one." She said around a mouth full of chicken.

"I hear people are pushing to have it demolished," His father, a quiet man, looked down at his plate as he spoke. Obviously worried that this beautiful girl would break his son's heart.

Isabelle struggled to swallow the food she hadn't quit finished chewing "Demolished?" He squeezed her hand, rubbing his thumb over her now trembling fingers. The rest of her seemed only slightly interested, as if she only really cared because it was near where she lived, but Simon could pick up the small pitch in her voice, the slight change in her posture, the desperateness hidden in her almost successfully apathetic eyes.

"Its probably just gossip, don't believe everything you here Brian," his mother got up and walked over to the fridge. "Apple pie anyone?"

* * *

Simon lifted his head away from Isabelle's and smiled. "What?"

"Nothing," he kissed her lightly on the lips.

"Your sister has walked passed your room at least five times," she whispered into his neck.

"She's my big sister, she's worried we'll have sex."

Isabelle pulled him closer, "Should we give her something to worry about?"

"Izzy-" he laughed trying to loosen her grip, but she entwined her legs around his hips, playing with the hem of his shirt, nipping his neck.

"Biting a vampire, interesting."

"Thought it might make you hot," She giggled, stroking a hand through his hair.

"If you don't stop it might do more than make me hot." He pulled his face to his and was lost in all that was Isabelle Lightwood.

* * *

She waited until she couldn't see him anymore before she stepped through the gate in front of Sanctuary. She touched her lips with the tips of her fingers; still aware of the tingling that was left there from his farewell kiss. Isabelle sighed, she could get used to this. Of course she knew he was hurting, he was dead. He'd never get any older, he'd never change. But was that so bad? He'd always be young and beautiful; he would only get stronger as he aged, not weaker. He'd live forever, be able to fight forever. Forever. What a tempting thought.

She shook herself, pushing open the large church doors. She could see the beauty that all the mundies couldn't see, see through the glamour to what was really there. Sometimes she envied them, their blissful ignorance to the evils of the world. All the mundane teens her age had been able to grow up like normal kids, cartoons and high school, things she'd never get a chance so value. Something Max would never even get to wish he'd had too.

Max. Oh Max; she wiped a tear from her cheek, she had to be strong. She pressed the button to the elevator, looking at velvet cushion pews that filled the ground level of the Institute, the only place she'd ever called home. Other than Idris, which was also home of course. It was home to all the Nephilim.

The doors slid open, but the inside wasn't empty. A small red head booked it out the moment the doors opened, slamming right into her.

"Izzy? Sorry I was just running to Taki's to get dinner for everyone, your mom and dad went out, and Magnus says he's to important to poof food in for all of us," She scowled her pretty face puckered slightly, "You want anything?"

"Oh, no thanks, I ate at Simons." She almost hit herself.

Clary shifted uncomfortably. "Uh…how is he?"

Isabelle looked at her friend, her sister, and put a hand on her shoulder. The two of them had made up; they'd accepted that Clary was Jace's and that they could only be friends. They loved each other of course; they'd even tried dating once. But since they'd gotten back to New York Clary had been busy with her Shadowhunting training, and Simon had been trying to figure out the best way to approach his coven. They hadn't had any time to be best friends again.

"He misses you."

Clary looked up, her green eyes a little shiny and puffy. "I miss him too."

"Maybe you'll come with me next time to see him?"

"And watch you both suck face? Yeah right." Isabelle smiled, her hand falling from her shoulder. Yep, her and Jace where made for each other all right.

"Get outa here, I'll see you when you get back." They hugged, and as the doors to the elevator closed, Isabelle saw a head of tiny red curls slip through the church doors into the dark world.

"Be careful Clary."


	4. Chapter 4

**Again, I'd really appreciate the reviews, having said that Shadow you made me a very happy girl :) Story alerts and favoriting me is nice too, but there is nothing like reading a review from a reader. Check out my poll, I'm petty sure I know whom I'm choosing though. Hope you enjoy this chapter. REVIEW!**

_**Watched**_

Isabelle walked silently down the carpeted hall, determined on her destination. Alec was sprawled across his bed with his back to her, silk smooth hands adorned with an assortment of gold and silver running through his hair. Sparks were flying, literally.

"Come up for air boys, I need some advice."

Magnus shot up immediately, his pretty almond eyes wide with excitement. Today he was wearing more glitter than usual; his hair –which was spiked dramatically– was electric blue.

_Must be date night,_ she thought.

Her brother was less enthusiastic. A blush crawled into his cheeks and he was struggling to meet her eyes. "With what?"

"What do you do when you _actually_ like a guy?" She concentrated on not seeming nervous, on leaning coolly on the doorframe, her face respectably curious. She was failing miserably.

Magnus smiled wickedly, "The Queen of Hearts comes to her brother and his boyfriend for boy advice. Someone record this day for future humiliation."

"Magnus-" Alec began.

"Oh stop being a pansy Alec. We're dating get over it. Everyone else has." Alec still wasn't completely comfortable with being openly gay, and honestly neither was Isabelle. It'd been a secret between the two of them for so long that it just seemed so strange to see it out in the open. Now everyone knew. Everyone who had had the pleasure of seeing the two of them kissing at the Shadowhunter and Downworlder bonding before the big battle, and that was _a lot_ of people.

But Magnus was good for him. He was older –centuries older, not that that made him anymore mature. Sometimes it seemed Alec was the grown-up in the relationship– more experienced, and totally comfortable with his sexuality. He could help Alec come to peace with himself. Besides, despite everything she kind of like Magnus, and he and Alec _were _a cute couple–

"Are you going to help me or not?"

Magnus clicked his tongue, "Angsty tonight aren't we," he sat from where he'd leaning over Alec, smoothing his hair, "This is regarding rat boy I presume?"

"He's a vampire-"

"Simon," Isabelle corrected fiercely.

"Simon, blood sucker, rat boy, what ever." He swung his feet off the bed and sashayed over to the dresser examining his delicate, slightly Asian features in the mirror.

"What is it that is not going as planned? You seem satisfyingly ruffled," he noted, nodding at her freshly wrinkled clothes.

"No, its not that," she looked at her feet, "I just don't know how to act toward a guy that I'm not…playing with or isn't like Meliorn or Jace…"

"Shall I make you a love spell?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Be serious for once."

"That was a legitimate offer my dear. Care to take me up on it? I do love to experiment with young emotions."

Alec sat up, his hands on his knees shaking his head slightly. He was her other half. They shared the same slim build and great hair, but where her eyes were dark and angry his were a deep blue, bottomless and caring. He countered her recklessness with his need to protect, her big brother all the way.

"Iz, don't do anything different. Simon likes _you_, the hot badass Shadowhunter who is secretly sensitive under her rock hard shield. Unlike all those other boys you've dated he _knows _you."

She bit her lip, "What if that's a bad thing?"

He looked at her, his face set, "It isn't." Isabelle sat beside him on the bed and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Okay, okay, enough with the ooey gooey sibling love." Magnus yanked her up and began pushing her toward the door. "The only people aloud to be ooey gooey in here are Alec and yours truly."

She held up her hands in surrender, calling through the closed door to remind them that it had been Magnus's idea to send Clary to get food and that they better come and eat.

Shaking her head, a smile on her lips, she set out to find her other brother –adopted but her brother all the same.

* * *

He watched from the darkness as she struggled toward the church gates, balancing several boxes of take-out in her small freckled arms, a shock of fiery hair blowing uncontrollably in the wind.

He smiled viciously, the blood boiling in his veins; she'd be dead soon. They'd all be dead soon.

* * *

Simon lye half asleep, the moonlight flooding in from beneath the narrowed shades, candy striping him in its silvery light. He was still trying to fight his nocturnal nature.

As he danced in and out of consciousness ghostly figures with blood dripping from their lips, and strange powerful markings danced behind his fluttering eyelids, and the constant tapping sound became annoying–

He shot up, the tapping continued more rapidly; someone was very impatient. He already knew what, correction _who,_ it was and tried to compose his displeased face.

The young Hispanic boy perched on his windowsill did not even attempt to hide his irritation. Raphael had been about sixteen when he'd been changed, his forever-youthful face smooth except for the pucker in his prow and the hard line of his mouth.

"Hermano." His fingers left dents in the concrete, "Is tonight the night you invite me in?"

"Not even close." He closed the shades in Raphael's face, "I'll meet you out front."

The night was cool and a little damp. The soft drizzle that most didn't notice had kept him awake for hours.

"The night is beautiful Hermano." Even in the complete darkness Simon could make out his maker in the dark alleyway between his apartment building and the next. "I bet the day is just as lovely isn't it Day Lighter." It was moments like this that he became suddenly aware of the Mark of Cain Clary had put on his forehead, hidden under his bangs it seemed to burn with frightening intensity.

"It is, though of course I'd still rather sleep through it." He knew it was wrong to mock Raphael, but he couldn't help it.

"Tell me how you did it."

"I already did."

"We both know that was a lie," he spat, his fangs slid from their sheathes in aggravation. "Tell me, I will keep your secret."

Simon said nothing. The two stood staring at each other, both refusing to budge, fledgling and make. Finally Raphael sighed and turned on his heal, motioning Simon to follow him down the road he had walked for years.

"Come child, you people await you." With feeling of foreboding Simon followed.

* * *

**And that is the end of Chapter 4. I have an idea of where this is going in my head, but being a huge fan of spontaneity it'll probably turn out completely different. I'll try to write longer chaps in the future but i'm trying to bang out as many as I can before I get far to busy to write _anything_. Again, hope you liked it and REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!**

_**~TerrorLies**_


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm just going to stop asking and just post, because my pleas for your feedback seem to be over looked. So here is yet again another chapter. Enjoy!**

_**

* * *

Fall of the Hotel of Death**_

Simon grimaced as the Hotel Dumort –_The Hotel of Death_. Who ever said the dead did not have a sense of humor just didn't not appreciate their jokes– came into view.

No one approached them as they walked down the back alley; hopping a fence and standing in the shadows, invisible to the eyes of the suspicious locals. Silently they scaled the walls like spiders, limber and deadly.

Raphael slid in through the high window first, disappearing into the dusty darkness, the slight rank of decay wafted out through the opening. Simon knew Raphael wouldn't wait for him, he'd just expect him to follow like a good fledgling. Not in the mood for the drama it was sure to provoke, he followed.

"Down the rabbit hole." A vampire's lair wasn't that much different from any other hangout –except for the undead company, occasional dead rodent and whimpering human– Eric, who'd been Simon's neighbor for most of his life and who he'd started a band with –to get girls– would have loved to don a decrepit old building as his man cave. It'd make him feel _badass_.

But Simon _never_ wanted Clary or Isabelle to ever have to come near this place. There were always hungry eyes watching from the darkness.

Clary had of course already been here once before; to recue him after he had –much to his embarrassment– hand drunk a fairy drink at one of Magnus' parties. The magical drink had turned him into a rat and he'd been mistaken for a fellow vamp that had also suffered the same fate. It had been that night that'd he'd accidentally ingested vampire blood, which evidently drew him back to the nest and resulted in _this._

The main room in which most of the vamps conducted themselves was a large hall, inaccessible from the ground level due to an "accident" involving the stairs and an axe. Usually there weren't many in attendance; most were out partying or…feeding. That night however the large room was bloated with life, or well, lack of life.

"Raphael I'm flattered," Simon put his hand above his no longer beating heart, sarcasm flowing thick, "You've thrown me a party."

"This is no party Day Lighter."

"Oh? Is it one of those vampire orgies? I've heard good things."

Raphael looked like he was fighting the urge to hit him. "The council and active members of the nest are here to decide your fate."

Simon sighed, "Haven't we already gone discussed this? I can't be killed or else…" he trailed off.

A dyed blonde vamp stepped forward, her eyes determined. Her friends stood behind her obviously thinking her brave. "Show us. Show us the Mark of Cain if you truly do ware it."

Simon pushed the hair away from his forehead. The girl gasped, a low murmur passed through the crowd. He looked at her, challenging with his eyes, but she stepped back her friends shielding her.

Raphael cleared his throat. "Settle down. The meeting is now in session." Several vamps stepped forward; some outrageously dressed others who would easily blend in on the New York streets. The crowd separated, situating themselves behind their delegate.

Each vampire chose a council member to answer to, who in return reported to the appointed nest leader: Raphael. As his fledgling, Simon had the privilege of belonging to him specifically.

"First on the agenda is our dear Simon. I asked you all a few weeks ago after we returned back home from the war to decide if the Day Lighter should be exiled because of his…disability. All in favor?"

No one moved. Raphael waited several moments before turning to Simon. "Congratulations. It appears you won't be kicked out on your ass."

Simon smiled, "You would've missed me."

"Hardly." Raphael dismissed him and went on with his meeting. "It has come to my attention," looked turned slowly addressing all of his vampires, "that many of you are discontent with my leadership. That you wish to appoint someone else." Each of the four reps nodded solemnly.

"Its unanimous Raphy," a small boy who looked about thirteen whispered, "I'm sorry."

"Your betrayal hurts most Michael." The boy looked defeated but stood his ground. Simon looked risked a glance toward the window in which he came, contemplating how fast he'd have to move to escape this.

"Who are your candidates?" One by one the four delegates named their candidates as they stepped forward.

"Well, I'm sorry but I will not step down willingly; so we will have to-" Raphael began, but he was cut off by the dyed blonde from before.

He had been surprised to see her step up as a group leader, but it was obvious that she was well liked –possibly because she was so attractive.

"Wait," she said, "the counsel has chosen another."

"But you've each already nominated a candidate from your people." Raphael growled impatiently, his killing edge sharp, spoiling for the fight.

"The council has chosen someone to fight for us all, our nominations were just plan B." She smiled cruelly. Blondie was not dumb, and she did _not_ like Raphael.

Simon watched the exchange tensely. He should have skipped out before, this was getting nasty, and it was only going to get worse he could feel it.; and he really had no interest in vampire politics.

"We've chosen the strongest of us. Its in our best interest to be feared by all our neighboring nests." Raphael snorted, eyeing a large burly vamp with curly black hair that was smiling broadly. Simon felt his skin itch and crawl.

"You Luce, should know more than anyone that size and appearance has no relation to strength for our people."

"We've chosen," the dyed blonde –Luce– continued, "The Day Lighter." And Simon's world fell to hell.

* * *

Isabelle had been searching for Jace for almost an hour, but it was as if he had vanished. She'd only caught glimpses of him during the past few days and she missed him, if it hadn't been for Simon she would have lost touch with her sarcastic edge. On gut instinct she headed toward the kitchen and patted herself on the back. Jace was rummaging through the refrigerator, searching enthusiastically for something to eat.

"Don't we have _anything_ here?" He asked, exasperated.

Isabelle giggled and hopped up on the counter top, crossing her delicate ankles as they dangled over the edge. "Clary went to get food."

"But I'm hungry _now_," he grumbled.

She sighed and began braiding random pieces of her hair. "Speaking of our lovely ginger, how are you two doing?"

Jace turned away from the fridge and closed it in defeat. "Fine."

"Just fine?" She dropped the braid, it dangled down the middle of her face.

"You know what I mean."

"Okay tight lip. Just know I'm going to assume the worse. And if get her pregnant within the next five years I _will_ castrate you." She cast him one of her blinding smiles.

"Oh not you too," he moaned. "It was already hell convincing Luke and Jocelyn to let her live here half time for training."

"I wont give you a hard time, I'm just letting you know. And I thought I'd give you the option of telling me if you two are having sex yourself before I talked to her. And you know she tell me, I'm the only girlfriend she has, and she the only one I have. We're like sister Jace, secrets don't exist." She'd never let anyone know how happy that made her. Isabelle jut her chin out in triumph, challenging him.

"Iz–" and then they heard the screaming.

* * *

Jace and Isabelle took off at a full out sprint, following the loud cries that echoed through the Institute.

As they neared the origin of the shots they realized there were words attached to the wails that were only increasing in desperateness and volume.

"Oh my God–" They got closer.

"Someone help me!" Just around the corner.

"There's so much blood. Oh God please help me. Jace!" There was a sound of sobbing and something heavy being dragged. They were nearing the elevator that brought them from the ground level into the heart of Sanctuary.

"Clary!" Jace surged forward beating Isabelle around the corner by fifteen feet.

_Oh God Clary no. Please be okay._

Rounding the corner her heart fell through the floor. Clary was in Jace's arms in complete hysterics. There was blood everywhere, and she was covered from head to toe in red gore.

"He'd dead. Oh God I know he's dead."

Isabelle allowed herself half a moment of relief when she saw the blood was not Clary's. She would not loose anymore family.

A young blonde boy with a beautiful face –even in death– lay lifeless on the carpet. His body was mutilated, leg and arms barely attached, stab wounds and slashes could be seen on every inch of him.

Jace stroked Clary's face whispering into her hair that she'd done well. Through her sobs they were able to piece together a story. She had come up the walk with the food and seen him bleeding on the doorstep. He'd been a little bit alive then, begging for help. She'd half dragged, half carried him through the church to the elevator and here they were.

"It's a warlock."

"What?" Isabelle was slammed back into herself.

"It's a warlock," Jace said, "I met him at Magnus' once." With that he lifted Clary's limp whimpering body into his arms and carried her away. Where she did not know, but she figured it was none of her business.

Sending a silent apology to the Angel for having to leave the boy alone, she went to the library and made a call.

**

* * *

I honestly don't know if anyone reads these, I could totally ramble and talk about faeries and talking fish, but I'm not at that level yet. I'll keep updating because 1)This gives me something to do when I'm not paying attention in school, and 2)Because I'm hoping _someone_ is excited to see these. I don't know if I'll be able to have another chap up until the weekend, in that case, don't mourn too much. *note this is sarcasm* :) peace. love. live.**

**~TerrorLies**


	6. Chapter 6

**So we left chapter five off with a cliffy ending, oooooooo. I hope your week is going well, only one more day so hang in there! Enjoy the chap.**

**P.S. I noticed how in an earlier chapter about Simon's father who, as it turns out is not in the picture, I just got to the part in MI again where it talked about his mom checking her e-date page constantly, so from this time on it just her current guy whom she's been with for a few months and Simon and Rebecca kind of like cuz he cares about there mom and doesn't want to replace their Dad. Okey well enough of me, back to the chap.**

_

* * *

**Open Wounds**_

Jace ran the bath with shaky hands, struggling to regain his composure; he was tougher than this, his movements were always precise.

_Get a hold of yourself Way–Lightwood._ He corrected himself quickly. He was not Jonathan Wayland. He was not Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern. He was Jace Lightwood. Jace Lightwood.

As he watched it fill he changed his mind. He let the water drain and turned on the shower on instead, his thoughts becoming less muddling as the room filled with steam. Clary couldn't even stand but that didn't matter, she could just sit and let the water fall over her. The bath would have been easier but he wasn't sure how she'd feel when the blood ran off of her and dyed the water a deep red. She was in a ball on the bathroom tile, shivering despite the heat. He stepped out of the bathroom and checking that his bedroom door was closed cracked open the small window, hoping to lessen the stench of blood just a little. She'd want her privacy –as much he could give her.

And he'd have to burn her clothes later, and probably bleach the bathroom. Not because the blood was toxic, but because he wasn't sure if Clary could handle it. She was strong; she'd seen plenty of death, fought demons and vampires, stretched the border of what he thought possible. That's why her reaction to this worried him. Yes what had happened was terrible and gruesome, but Clary had seen worse. Much worse.

She whimpered when he sat her up, "Shhh it's okay." He brushed his thumb over her tear soaked cheeks, the blood there smearing. "I need to undress you now," he said cautiously, "If you want me to leave–"

"No!" She latched onto his arms, her nails drawing blood. "No don't. I cant–" She choked off a sob.

He let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Okay." He slid her shirt up over her head, shimmied her pants down off of her ankles, and lifted her into the shower. He didn't' touch her under things, it just didn't seem right to expose her when she was like this, even if it was him undressing her. He rubbed the blood from her skin, glad to be this close to her, just close and nothing more. The rest would come with time; and he was trying very hard to believe they had plenty.

After a moment he climbed in with her, fully clothed, to scrub her clean; it was easier that way. He ran his hands up and down her legs, he feet, her arms, her hands, and her face, feeling her lips mouth _thank God, thank God, thank God_, into his fingers.

"I'd never let anything happen to you," he cooed as he shampooed her hair, rinsing the blood free of the tangles and watching it return to its natural red. To this she said nothing, just sighed and leaned against him as the water fell over them. As he held her in his arms, his heart beating steadily below where she rest her head, her trembling subsided. And he sat there running his fingers through her hair, not understanding how he could love a person so much.

* * *

They'd rested under the water until he'd seen her fingers were pruning. He toweled her dry and grabbed a T-shirt and pair of sleep shorts from his dresser. He'd never been more thankful for the bathroom attached to his bedroom.

She stood wrapped tightly in a fluffy white towel, her hair dripping onto the hard wood as she stood in the doorway watching him; she looked exhausted. He walked passed her, put the clothes on the toilet and turned to leave.

"Don't go," she said, her voice just as tired.

"I'll be right outside, you don't really want me in here while you change."

She nodded shakily, as she closed the door behind her. Quickly he stripped off his wet closed and slipped on the only pair of bottoms that weren't in the laundry room, a blue pair of boxers. He was too frazzled to be embarrassed or enjoy picturing the look on Clary's face at his exposed state –that is the face she'd usually have made, under the circumstances he doubted she'd notice. Jace let himself breath unevenly once out of her sight, his chest felt tight and deprived of oxygen, the soft mattress under him the comfort. He put his head in his hands, struggling not to grip his hair until it pulled free from the roots.

His room, since he and Clary had ceased needing to hide their feelings from themselves and everyone else, had begun finally to have a personality. It was still pin perfect and clean –except for the recent blood drops that sprinkled the floor– but now it actually looked lived in. There was a picture of him and Clary stuck in the mirror above his dresser. It was of the two of them in Alicante on the day of celebration after the victory in the Valentine's War, a title given to his father's –calling him 'father' felt traitorous somehow, but he'd never called him anything else, even though he really _wasn't_ his actual father, but he'd only discovered that recently. And because of that he felt nothing at all for his biological father and everything for the monster that raised him until he was seven and betrayed him in every way. The monster that stabbed him with the Angels Sword, the Mortal Sword.– fight to rid the world of Downworlders, and rebuilt a corrupt Clave. He'd never forget how beautiful Clary had looked in that dress. Knick-knacks from recent trips to China Town sat on his bedside table, a blanket that he had snatched from Luke's house because it smelled like Clary was spread over his bed. A stack of doodles she'd crumbled and thrown away during lessons, retrieved and press flat between books he'd taken from the library for pleasure and never returned; each one precious.

His head snapped up as she slid through the door and tiptoed over to the bed. She sat beside him and rested her head on his shoulder, her hair tickling his exposed chest.

"You should sleep," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

"Can I stay with you?"

"As if I'd let you leave." She laughed softly and snuggled closer to him, nuzzling the arc of his neck. He shivered inwardly. Jace turned down the covers and pulled her next to him, slipping his arm around her waist and holding her close as they lay under the soft quilt. She was silent for so long after that Jace was convinced she was asleep, he closed his eyes and began to drift.

"I thought it was you," she said suddenly. "From the gate I couldn't see his face, and there was just so much blood, and I thought he was you."

He sucked in a breath, tightening his grip on her and burying his face into her hair. All that sobbing and pleading, all the emotions she'd been too shocked to express last time he lay bleeding.

"Clary–"

"I can't loose you again Jace. I wont let you die again." Her voice was hard, not a plea, a promise. "I wont let you."

* * *

On her way back from the library Isabelle ran into Magnus.

"What the hell happened?" He growled, his cat eyes slits in his face.

"No 'Hello Isabelle, you look terrible. How are you feeling?' Your manners are appalling."

"Why is Callum dead on your floor?"

"Clary found him at our door and brought him up here trying to save him. I'm fine by the way, Clary's not. Where's Alec?"

"Disposing of the body."

"I love bonfires."

"This is serious," he grabbed her arms. "Warlocks are not easy to kill, especially Warlocks as old as Callum. What is wrong with you!?"

"That's almost exactly how me and Alec found Max."

Magnus froze, eyeing her carefully. "That would explain Alec's reaction."

"Which was?" She asked dryly.

"He laughed."

And Isabelle had thought she wasn't dealing. _Oh Alec._

"You should go find him."

"I'm afraid to leave either of you alone right now." He ran a colorful hand through his hair, his white painted lips a tight line.

"Come on," he beckoned with a long pink nail, "Jace and Alec will kill me if you go all psycho bitch."

"What about Clary? Don't you think she cares?" Her heart was only half in it.

Magnus rolled his eyes, "If I'm afraid of an untrained fire crotch that resembles a pixie, then I'm no longer fit to be the High Warlock of Brooklyn, Honey."

"No, then you're just stupid. I wouldn't over look her if I was you."

He sobered up slightly, "I know what she's capable of, but if I think about it that way I'll never see her the same. She could destroy everything we know. Would you rather me see her _that _way?"

"I-I. No" She's never thought about it in that light. She shuttered.

"Then don't question me, I can turn that smooth skin of yours into a mess. And not a hot mess like _me_, a red, lumpy mess. Then I wont have to worry about you being the better looking one."

"You think I'm pretty?" She perked up a bit, smiling at her feet.

"Honey I'm gay. All I see you as is competition."

"I think you're cute too," she felt a little warmer, the chill ebbing –hiding away the bad feelings until later when she was alone in her bed– and looped her arm through his.

"Lets go find your hubby."

"Don't let him hear you say that." And the two set off in almost good spirits.

"Wait so is she _actually_ a fire crotch?"

Magnus laughed, "Why don't you ask Jace that question and tell me how he reacts. Wait on second thought videotape it."

* * *

Simon could feel the dawn approach even before the far away rays began to peak through the darkness of the world's shittiest night; the only thing satisfying being the look on Raphael's face, when they announced that Simon was the one they intended to replace him with. His jaw had dropped and snapped back so quickly he'd thought he'd heard it crack, as he stared at his people in awe. After a few moments he'd glided over to Simon and clasped his hand.

"I will only half enjoy destroying you Day Lighter. I've never had a fledgling before."

"You won't be able to get rid of me that easy. I'm a stubborn asshole." Simon put off a brave face, and his voice did not betray the panic that was steadily building inside him.

"Tomorrow at midnight, when the night is at his peak." His voice was dark and dramatic. Simon couldn't help but smirk.

"Where?"

"I will find you," he'd grinned then, his fangs completely exposes and dismissed him; already counting him dead. Simon hoped he was wrong.

Dawn was a mere hour away when he finally crawled back into bed; and to his relief Rebecca hadn't noticed his absence. If she had she'd have been sitting in kitchen with the lights off like in all those bad comedies she loved.

He groaned at the thought of going to school in the morning and was dead to the world within a minute. That night he dreamt, blessedly, of nothing.

* * *

Hoping she'd feel better in the morning, Isabelle found herself devastatingly disappointed when the morning did come and the pain still lingered heavy in her chest. It was a crippling agony that sometimes brought her to doubling over and sobbing uncontrollably.

She looked around her room, identical in design to every bedroom in the Institute, and thought about the lonely space that was once Max's. No one had stepped in there since his death. She flipped on the bathroom light and flinched at her own reflection. When had she gotten so pale? How had her hair become so dull and flat? She washed the tear stains from her face and finished the rest of her morning necessities in a timely fashion, stepping into the hall just in time to smell bacon wafting down from the kitchen. Her mom was up early.

She patted down slowly, her stomach hardly rumbling. She hadn't been able to hold down last night's dinner, slamming the door in Alec's face and rushing to the bathroom. Her and Magnus had him in the back gardens, staring wordlessly at the burning corpse.

Magnus had offered to stay, and looked hurt when Alec told him he needed time alone. Isabelle had offered him an apologetic hug before he stalked through the gardens back to his Brooklyn apartment.

Stepping into the kitchen though she found a surprise. Her mother was at the kitchen table, cradling a cup of coffee in her hands; she looked positively dreadful. When Maryse and Robert Lightwood had rushed back home after receiving Isabelle's call, they had tried to hide their pain from their children, but they were as transparent as the windows, that Maryse and Jace compulsively cleaned when they were upset. Isabelle's mother seemed to be slowly falling apart, unable to hide her grief more and more each passing day. In the beginning Isabelle thought life would go on as it had, but she was seeing it never would again. Her father used work as an outlet, and even sometimes came and helped in the combat room. But body wasn't young as it used to be, and every day he hurt something, and after every kill he seemed emptier. If it wasn't for Luke who went out searching for demons with him, she didn't know if he'd still be.

When Isabelle first looked toward the stove she'd thought it was Clary frying bacon and flipping sausages. But it wasn't, the hair was darker, and she was several inches taller, her willowy figure only similar to Clary in it's coloring. Jocelyn Fray began speaking without turning around.

"Eggs or pancakes?"

"Um. Which ever."

"Help me here Isabelle, I'm extremely indecisive."

"Can you do poached?"

"Absolutely." She slid the bacon and sausages onto a plate. "Now help me fetch what we need before the boys get here and eat it all."

Isabelle wasn't much of a cook, as Jace constantly loved to point out, but Jocelyn wasn't bad. She enjoyed running through the kitchen with her, gathering ingredients, refilling her mother cup and squeezing her hand reassuringly. And Jocelyn wasn't as uptight as she when she was regarding Clary. Then again lately the only time she ever saw them together was when they got into intense screaming matches about serious things like training and sleeping only a few rooms away from Jace. Any mother would put up a fight when it came to Jace, no matter how much she like him, and Jocelyn like Jace a lot.

And unlike when with her own mother, Jocelyn encouraged Isabelle's interest in cooking, smiling brightly when she asked if she could try. She knew her mothers reasoning, her worry that if she ever learned how that'd force her into the kitchen and out of the field, but part of her wanted to be able to care for her family in that small way while still kicking demon ass.

"Now fill the pot top with a little water, that's it, and place it over the frying pan–Well done!" In the end it had been a bit over cooked, but entirely edible. Progress.

"Isabelle," her mother asked meekly as she watched her eat.

"Yea?"

"Would you mind fixing me some?" Jocelyn sat down beside her, heaping the bacon and sausage on her mother's plate and filling a cup with milk. Maryse studied the coffee in her hands, her eighth cup.

Isabelle smiled softly, "Sure." She pushed up and turned on the stove, listening to Jocelyn whisper encouragingly to Maryse; threatening after a few moments to force-feed her if she didn't eat _something._

The pain wouldn't go away on it's own, they needed help, all of them. But with Jocelyn, Luke, Clary, Simon and even Magnus, she felt they'd all get through. She'd lost a brother and gained a sister. Her mother had lost her son and found a friend, something she hadn't had in years. Her family was growing; the rest of the pieces would find their way back and mend their hearts in time.

**

* * *

R&R. This was a long one, hope you liked it.**

_**~Terror**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Yo guys, I'm real sorry it's been so long. I've had a lot going on lately and my heart just hasn't been in this. But luckily Jace and Clary just wouldn't shut up; and then Magnus ran in and ugh, it's a party I wished I could've skipped out on – would've made school a little easier. I hope this mega long, possibly too long, chap makes up for everything.**

**

* * *

Disaster**

Simon awoke begrudgingly, his siren of an alarm clock whaling from the bedside table only few inches from his aching ears. His sister was pounding away at the locked door, threatening to ground him if he was late. The heavy _boom bang _of her fists echoing the throbbing in his head. It was way too early.

Since the change his movements had become so silent and predatory that when he opened the door –Rebecca still in mid slam – a fist in the face greeted him good morning.

"Ow!" he yowled, his hand going to his face. "Shit now I'm bleeding."

Rebecca stared at him then the blood speckled on her palm. "I didn't know you could still bleed." Her voice was vacant of any emotion, which as Simon knew well, meant she was trying to hide how she really felt.

"I can bleed, and I can die, and if you keep making me bleed I'm going to get very hungry." He rubbed his soar nose, the blood flow already slowing. Vampires heal fast.

She recollected herself, smoothing her shirt over her designer jeans. "Get dressed, I'll drive you."

"I can walk to school faster than you drive."

"Shut it. I'm bored, its summer vacation for us college scholars."

He rolled his eyes, "Yay me."

Rebecca smiled, punching him in the shoulder, "Come on bud, I'll warm you up some breakfast." And as she skipped into the kitchen, Simon felt normal for the first day in weeks.

Simon sat with him feet on the dashboard. The radio was on, though only really omitting a low volume of incoherent static; that of course did not stop Rebecca from trying to sing along with the song that played underneath it as she drove him to St. Xavier's High School in her ancient Chevy. Its light blue paint job had seen better days, it flaked off when ever the wind touched it and rust stains bled all over its exterior.

"Does this thing go any faster?"

"Leave my baby alone." She scowled, her chipper singsong mood momentarily dampened.

"Becca, this thing needs to be put down."

"You're just jealous you don't have one."

"Yes because it has been my childhood dream to taint the streets with a dinosaur of my own."

She glanced at him sideways as she drove, "You got enough blood?" He loved to hear her blatantly say it.

"Yup. They'll be gross at room temperature, but I wont feel the need to run through the school tearing out the throats of virgins."

"Between that comment and that shirt I'm trying to figure out when you became such a perv."

Simon looked down at his T-shirt, which featured a game control, and the words _give me a reason to push you buttons_.

"This shirt is eye catching."

"Yeah, that's because the cord points down at your-"

"Becca!" If he hadn't been turned he would never have been able to react in time to grab the wheel and stir them out of the way on the oncoming 18-wheeler. It missed the by inches, and as the drivers seats lined up he could have sworn the dark haired man driving smiled at him with a mouth full of knives.

"I–I was in my lane–It just swerved right toward us–How did no one else _see_ that–"

"Its okay," He squeezed her hand under his, still stirring for her. After a few moments she pulled her face back into its cool composed mask and snapped at him to leave the driving to the adult.

"Maybe you should walk to school from now on." Despite her efforts to seem unaffected but her voice was thick.

"Naw, this is more fun. I kinda like having a personal driver." When they had pulled up in front of the school he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Her hands loosened from where they had still been clutching the wheel and her posture softened the slightest bit. If there was anyone he could deal with better than Clary, it was Rebecca.

He threw his backpack over his shoulder, "See ya later sis."

As he ran up the concrete steps that came up from the sidewalk she called after him. "Don't eat anybody!" He smiled as he stepped through the entrance of a school he'd never thought he'd missed.

* * *

It was one of those moments when you rise to consciousness on your own, and you just feel so comfortable wrapped in the soft blackest that you really wouldn't mind not waking up just yet. It was one of those moments when the only things you seem to know were the pillow beneath your head and the warm body sleeping beside you. Then it all came rushing back.

Clary squeezed her eyes tight. _Go back to sleep. Go back to sleep_. Images of beautiful blonde angels practically chopped to pieces flashed behind her closed eyelids. They all had Jace's face.

_But it wasn't Jace_, she told herself. _Jace is okay._

He stirred behind her as if her thoughts had somehow gone to him, his grip on her waist tightened. She took in the feel of him, the clean scent – sometime while she'd been asleep he'd slipped away and showered; the small tinge of blood that had been around him scrubbed away.

She committed his strong vitality to memory, to pull back to herself every time she pictured that sword impaled into his chest, the golden glint in his eyes dulled and vacant. Gone.

He moved again, his mouth made a clicking and sucking sound, something he tended to do while he slept, it always made him seem so young, fragile somehow. She knew he's wake soon; that his peace wouldn't last. He's be awake and worried and guarded – though compared to what he was, an open book; at least to her – once again.

She intertwined her pale fingers with his. Jace's hands always seemed more of those of an artist's than a warrior's to her, thin and delicate; but the dark calluses and swirls of rune scars – which were slowly beginning to cover her own body – said otherwise.

She'd protect him, she'd train as hard as she had to; until her determination to continue couldn't even push her body any longer. Jace could never know, he'd stop teaching her immediately in fear shed actually be good enough to get around him and run head first into danger. Next time someone tried to stab him she'd be between him. She had to be.

"Jace," she pressed her trembling lips to his fingers.

It was if that kiss awoke him. She felt his breath hot on her neck, a tingling that ran from her toes to the place where nibbled her ear. His hands were firm on her waist as he turned her to him, kissing her deep, hungry, soft.

"Good morning, " he said chirpily, the sunlight spilling in glinting off of his hair in a golden halo.

"Morning," She felt breathless, he always made her feel as if her lungs couldn't hold the air around him, as if the floor was perpetually dropping out from beneath her. She nuzzled closer to him. She could almost feel the angel blood inside him call to hers. Blood sings to blood. He was he other half, the angel boy; and though she herself was the angel girl she felt it was only him blessed with the divine. She wasn't as beautiful and strong as he was, just so devastatingly normal – other than her affinity to create and control runes, but that was a just a mistake, a result of the experiments her father had conducted on them, something she could not control – no matter how many times he said otherwise. But Jace, Jace was perfection.

He stiffened, his eyes becoming predatory. "I smell bacon." And just like that he was a normal guy again. He climbed over her and out the door, disappearing for a few moments before doubling back and pulling her from the bed. His hand was warm in hers and he led her down the hall, their feet padding lightly along the cold wood; and for a moment she allowed herself to take comfort in that and forget everything else. She loved him.

* * *

Jocelyn was thrown off her stride for a moment when Jace strode into the kitchen, Clary following tightly behind. Isabelle had to give Jocelyn credit; she was handling this better than most mothers possibly could.

"You're up early," she said to Jace.

"Well my mouth was watering, so I figured it was safe. You weren't cooking." She spit her tongue at him and sipped her coffee.

Maryse and Alec were still splaying with their food. Alec was moody; he and Magnus were fighting, _again_. H's stumbled into the kitchen mumbling good morning and stacking his plate high with food he seemed not to want.

Maryse was trying to regain any type of appetite she had had, gulping down several cup of coffee and nearly finishing an entire plate of eggs and bacon. Luke and Robert had blown through only minutes before, grabbing a cup of coffee and packing as much food as they could into a bag before they set out on another death mission, though a little less enthusiastically than usual. They were all coming back to normality.

"Actually," he mother said – somewhat proud – "She did cook."

"Jocelyn helped," Isabelle looked away from her adopted brother, suddenly shy, who was regarding her with a amused half smile.

"Nonsense," Clary's mother insisted, "I made the coffee." She winked.

Jace shrugged and made his rounds, planting a kiss on all the cheek of every woman – even Jocelyn's – in the room. When he got to Alec he gave him a pat on the back, their customary good morning, and continued to pile his plate high with food.

Clary's face was flushed as she spoke to her mother in a hushed voice, hugging her and mumbling quickly something along the lines of _God_ _get your mind outa the gutter_.

She slid in between her and Jace and he immediately began making her a plate as hefty as his own before she had a moment to object. Which of course got him an appraising glance from Jocelyn.

"You're eating this morning. Don't even try it. Nephilim work outs are intense and you haven't been eating the way you should to keep from dropping." She sighed indignantly, shoving a forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth, looking at him smugly.

"Haeh?"

"What?" He looked at her, a smile peeking at the corner of his lips, I'm not sure I caught that."

Clary swallowed. "Happy?"

"Not until it's all gone."

She dug in with her fork, a line furrowing between her eyes. "And no moving it around your plate," he warned, "I can tell the difference."

Isabelle laughed as Clary glared at her plate and cursed Jace under her breath. "Watch it. When I was eight he was the one who wouldn't let me leave the table until I finished my veggies, not my parents."

"He like the freaking food Nazi." Clary shoved another bite into her pouting mouth.

Isabelle leaned back I her seat, the steam if her coffee curling around her face. "So what are we doing today?"

"Beating Clary up again?" Her little freckled friend washed down half her plate with a swig of orange juice.

"Obviously-" Jace began.

"I propose a day off," she brushed her silken hair behind her ear.

"Why? You're finally bored with sucking face with Simon?" Jace scoffed.

"Jace," Clary rolled her eyes, "honestly."

Maryse smiles into her coffee, "He's a nice boy…even if he is a little dead." Jace and Jocelyn were the only ones who found her mother joke amusing. She on the other hand was surprised that her mother seemed to be okay with her daughter dating a vampire.

"It's okay Cary, this is progress, he called him by name today." Isabelle smiled triumphantly. "Face it you like him."

"No I pity him and have taken him under my wing; there's a difference."

"No there isn't–"

"I'm so sure–"

"Get over yourself Blondie–"

Alec was shaking his head, "You are all like children."

Jace turned to him, "Oh come off it Alec, have some fun."

"If you grow up, I'll have fun."

"My child like behavior is endearing, you cherish it. Are you going to eat that?"

Alec slapped away Jace's reaching hand, "Hardly, you can take that endearing quality of yours and–"

"Boys, boys," She finished the last of her coffee, "Lets be civil."

"That's impossible," Clary, said dryly, "they're both egotistical assholes."

Alec looked at her wide eyed, "_Me?_"

"Clary language!" Jocelyn reprimanded her daughter half-heartedly from where she stood leaning by the stove.

"Love you too babe."

"You made me eat five days worth of food!"

"Don't be dramatic, that's Izzy's territory."

"I see it as more of an art," she commented unfazed, "And any who I say we go out today, there is a Downworlder party tonight and Clary and I need some serious wardrobe improvements."

"Clary and I?" Clary raised a delicate blonde eyebrow.

"You're right, its more just you Dear." Clary began to argue but thought better of it. "No heels," she said instead, her last desperate attempt to get on high ground, knowing resistance was futile.

"Of course," Isabelle waved it off, but booth knew that she would get her way and that Clary would be stumbling down the street two, maybe three inches taller. "Ooo this is going to be so much fun."

* * *

Jace, despite the threats from Isabelle, did not go shopping.

"We're better off," She'd said bitterly. "You'd probably have her go naked."

"Is that an option?" She didn't give him the benefit of answering, instead grabbing Clary and dragging her out of the kitchen.

"Izzy I really should be training–"

"Don't even think about it. I'm tired of seeing those bruised. Besides we haven't had much girl time."

"But–"

"Nope."

"Have fun!" He called as their voices began to fade; but they were just close enough for him to hear Isabelle give a hearty laugh to Clary's mumbled response.

Jace was a little put out about the canceled training session. Clary was progressing well, and he had to admit as her boyfriend – if that was even the right word – he didn't mind the intimate closeness of it all. It had almost gotten carried away a number of times, but this would give him time for a much needed visit with the vampi– with Simon.

He busied himself in the kitchen; scrubbing down the counters until they practically sparkled, sending Maryse and Jocelyn out, suggesting they go shopping with their daughters – Isabelle could take care of Clary and herself just fine, but a little extra perfection wouldn't hurt either of them…well maybe Izzy's pride –and kicking Alec out just because he was just too grumpy. Jace couldn't deal with his brother's relationship while his own had so many cuts and scars.

He swept and scrubbed until – because this what he did when was restless, clean – finally heard the high feminine voices come closer then fade again, and the distinct clicking of the elevator moving down.

He headed back to his room and threw on a pair of jeans and an old T-shirt, one of the only ones he had left. Demon hunting was not kind to clothing.

On his way out he saw Church. The blue Persian curled in front of the elevator looked up and meowed a long whiny cry.

"The girls gone?" The cat rubbed up against his leg. Jace scratched his head with his finger, "Don't tell anyone I left okay. I mean it you devious bastard." He gave Church one more endearing scratch and stepped into the elevator. It really didn't matter if they all knew he left to see Simon, it'd just save him a lot of grief and I-told-you-so's.

Outside the Institute it was chilly, the heat of summer was gone and the winter was rushing in fast. As he stepped over the threshold he couldn't help but notice the bloodstain, he sent a silent prayer that Clary hadn't seen it.

The sun was high, about noon. Jace felt a twinge of pain in his chest, yet another lesson learned from a monster; it was if Valentine had made him who he was. Oh wait, he had. He took a deep breath; _I'm the angel boy, not the demon boy, not demon_. Sebastian– no Jonathan, Jonathan Christopher, Clary's biological brother had been the child born with demon blood. He had been completely evil, an abomination; he'd killed Max and Jace had barely been able to kill him while he and Izzy fought for their lives. Mysteriously though, he body had disappeared. He hoped that maybe because of the demon blood in him, he just disintegrated –that was the theory he had recently come up with. But no matter he said that to himself, repeating it like a mantra, he still felt tainted.

But no matter how many times he told himself that, he still felt tainted. He wasn't like Clary who was visibly pure and kind and angelic–

He stopped himself; he couldn't keep doing this whoa-is-me thing. He was Jace Lightwood, most talented Shadowhunter his age, he was stunningly attractive –he smiled at the last part, knowing how Clary would role her eyes – he could tell it like it was. His only weakness had once been not being able to get close to people, to love was to destroy, but he didn't have to worry about that now. He had Clary.

Simon was in the middle of his school day but he had a feeling he wouldn't mind being liberated. He never could understand the appeal of mundane schools, then again neither did most teenagers.

Jace headed toward the subway, back into his confident façade, the one most people thought was real, already looking forward to being able to let it fall to pieces when a little red head was at home in his arms.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disaster**

Simon had been on his way to lunch when he saw Jace leaning toward a small blonde girl, whispering into her ear in a very _convincing_ manner. He was trying to milk something out of her; and Simon could only guess at what it was.

"Uh," she said almost raggedly, "He's right over there." She pointed over to Simon.

_I knew it. What now._

"Are you good friends?" She leaned toward him she just couldn't help herself.

Jace winked at her and walked over to where he was standing outside his AP Physics Lab.

"Clary would kill you if she'd seen that," He mumbled dryly, "She hates Katie."

"Clary hates most of the shallow brats at your school. And don't ask me how I know what kind of people they are, I just do."

"They're not all so bad."

Jace looked at him, raising an eyebrow as several girls noticeably pulled down their shirts a little as they passed him. Simon had no doubt that Jace had witnessed some of the horrible things people do as he stalked demons around, he shuttered at the thought that these people had been oblivious they were being watched while Jace had been under the safety of a glamour.

"Point taken." Jace followed him as he made his way to his second floor locker, silent until he'd grabbed his lunch and attempted to go meet Eric in the courtyard.

"We need to talk."

"Are we breaking up already? Jace I really thought we had something."

"Shut up Simon, it's about Clary."

He slapped down the hand Jace had put on his shoulder. "Of course it is, it always is. What's wrong now? Does she miss me? Is she trying to make time for me in her busy schedule?"

"Stop being an ass. She's been trying to skip out early for days and you know it. You should see how hard it is for her to pull away from the training sessions, but she does, everyday, to call you. And you never fucking pick-up. She talks about you when she's sleeping-"

"I knew you were fucking–"

"–She misses you, and you miss her too."

The two boys looked at each other, each steamed for different reasons over the same girl. Jace backed down first, that alone was almost enough for Simon to give in.

"Is that all you came for, cuz I'm hungry." His voice was steely.

"No," Jace looked at Simon, his gold eyes locking with his black ones. "I hadn't planned on coming as her boyfriend, just as your friend. We found a warlock dead on the Sanctuary steps last night. As a Downworlder I thought I'd warn you about the murder, you know so you could watch your dead ass."

His lips twitched, "Well um, thanks I guess."

"I figured that the possible new coven leader might be interested in the latest Downworld gossip."

"How do you–"

"When are you going to learn Simon," this time he didn't hit the friendly hand from his shoulder, "I know everything."

Jace glanced down at Simon bagged lunch, "C'mon Mamma's boy, we're playing hookie."

"Well technically since I'm already here its just skipping."

"Oh shut up."

"If Rebecca kills me, its all on you."

"If Rebecca can kill a vampire, than I will be very impressed."

Simon rolled his eyes as they practically ran down the stairs, amazed at how little sound they were making. He might as well have fun while he still could. He could be dust by morning.

* * *

When Jace asked him to go to a Downworlder party with him later that night, the first thing he thought about was the last time. He still woke up sometimes afraid he'd suddenly be thrown back into that little rodent body.

"No faerie drinks," he made Jace promise after finally giving in.

"I'm not the one who told you to drink it. That was you trying to impress Izzy."

"Exactly. Don't let me do it again."

Jace laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, "Sure thing man. But I'm warning you the heart wants what the heart wants. If I can't stop you its all on you."

The moon was high as the two made their way to the twenty-third street address. He and Jace had spent the day eating and fighting in the park under the cover of tree–something they had been doing often as of late. He would have loved to go into the training room at the Institute, but he was damned and the damned could not entire hallowed ground. Then again it was convenient when avoiding Clary. He would Jace said he needed someone to keep up with him, and Simon needed to learn how to use his new speed and strength efficiently against a skilled fighter – which due to the present circumstance had become a very important lesson to learn.

Isabelle had called at nine to tell them Alec was with Magnus and to meet them at the party around 11:30 – Downworld parties didn't ever really start kicking until midnight – the invite was in her room.

So now as the Shadowhunter and the vampire walked together on a cold night they were being watched. Simon felt the prickling on his neck. The black slow slimy feeling he felt deep in his gut.

"You okay?" Jace had walked a few steps and turned around seeing that he had stopped.

The feeling was gone, "Yeah, I just though I heard someone." _More like I felt them_. His forehead burned.

It wasn't long before they reached their destination. "Seems a little small, not to mention that it's too quiet."

"It's spelled," Jace said absent mindedly, he knocked on the door. He hadn't even had time to bring his hand back to his side when a small troll-like creature swung open the door.

"You're Tiny I presume?"

The troll puckered his eye brown as he regarded Jace. "Did I invite you?"

"No."

"What ever, just try not to kill anyone Shadowhunter."

"Am I that obvious? Damn there goes my dream of being a spy." Simon elbowed him and smiled at the troll, his fangs slid from their sheaths. The smell of Bloody Mary's wafted through the open door.

Once they stepped over the threshold the silence shattered in a single instant. The house was surprisingly large in the inside and seemed to expand before his eyes. He and Jace snaked their way through the crowd searching for a friendly face, finding none. It was only when Jace sat them both down at the makeshift Tiki-bar and ordered a scotch that a friend found them.

Maia, a curvy werewolf with chocolate skin and a full head of long dark braids and a no shit attitude, walked over to them smiling – well over to Simon – her hips swaying.

"Simon!" She pulled him into a hug, "What are you doing here? You know Sunny?" She asked, he guessed she was referring to the troll who had answered the door.

"Seems more like a Cloudy to me." Maia shot Jace a cold glare where he sat leaning over his third drink.

"Izzy invited us."

"Smart girl. You wanna go outside? It's kinda packed in here."

"Funny," Jace said facing her. "You strike me as a girl who likes body to body contact. Be careful Simon, this bitch bites." He smiled at his joke.

"I'm not afraid to hit you asshole. Don't test me."

"What bit your ass babe? Oh wait I already no the answer to that."

Simon pulled him up, taking the glass from hi hand mid swig. "What is wrong with you? You're being a bigger dick than usual."

"My girlfriend isn't answering my texts. Demon infestation is raging and I don't think she brought any weapons." Clary had forced all of the Lightwoods to get cell phones; stressing their need to change with the times and that it would make it easier to get a hold of each other if they didn't have to send a bird or run half way across New York.

"Oh poor baby," Maia did not trust pretty boys, even if this pretty boy had saved her life multiple times.

"Don't worry man, Izzy probably took her phone. She'd see you as a distraction."

"How do I know she's okay if she doesn't _answer_ me?"

"Is he always this protective?"

Simon looked at Jace apologetically before turning to Maia, "Yes."

"I am not, she's just a little flustered right now I'm worri–"

"If she's dating you she must be more than flustered."

"You know I usually don't beat up girls unless they're demon or rogue vamps but your sarcasm is really trying my patience."

"Look whose talking!"

"Guys seriously stop." Outside it was much nicer, the fresh air seemed to help cool Maia's tempter, and Jace's mouth.

"So what's so special about these Downworlder parties anyway?" He asked as he grabbed a Bloody Mary from a tray, scrunching his nose when he saw there was ice in it. Idiots.

Jace shrugged, pulling the new cell phone from his pocket for the umpteenth time. Being with Clary made him seem so much more human, proved he had a heart after all.

"I come because I can let my guard down completely. It's a good feeling."

"You don't have to hide who you are. Heavy costuming off your shoulders." Jace said softly, plucking a flower from the nearest bush and examining the electric purple petals.

Maia regarded him with a new respect, she didn't know what the hell a Shadowhunter, an angel's warrior would have to hide, but he'd hit the nail on the head. "Exactly."

Maia motioned over to a few empty lawn chairs near the fence at the back of the yard, which like the house was far too big to actually fit in the actual lot. The was a garden in the far right corner surrounded and hidden by high shrubbery, the path that let to it lined with balls of floating light. The rest of the yard was set up in the same structured way, the patio was big enough to host fifty people comfortably and there was am in ground hot tub to the left of him where water sprites where splashing around happily. Looked like Sunny was more of a warlock than a troll; damn spells. Magic, in the reality was not what it was in the fairytales. Only warlocks could perform magic, and that was because they were half demon, most Shadowhunter regarded magic with caution because by definition it was half evil.

A group of faerie girls, spinning and twirling passed in front of them. The jingle of their giggles stopping them momentarily. One girl covered in what looked like silver leaves and with long ebony curls cascading down her back stopped. Her dark eyes fixed down at them, her tall slim body softening to a more human posture.

"Jace?" Her voice sounded like wind through a wind chime, it was accented lightly with some long forgotten tongue.

"Ever."

"The girl smiled, the stars shining in a silver crescent. "It's been awhile, I've missed you."

They embraced briefly, "Looking lovely as ever I see."

"You aged well for a human," She brushed his cheek, faeries were touchy. "So is what I hear true? You have new girl?"

"Clary." The way he said it made part of Simon's heart burn.

"Is there any hope for me during your lifetime?"

He shook his head, his smile was friendly, "Sorry Ever."

"Wait, wait, wait," Maia's face was wide with shock. "You dated a _faerie_?"

"It happens, "Jace stood, his head high, his smile cocky.

Simon shook his head, "Why am I not surprised."

"He's the only human to ever break-up with me, I thought I loved the little monster."

"Now that I can't believe. _He _dumped _you_? Are you _insane_ Jace?" He didn't get the answer because Ever waved at someone behind them, gave Jace quick peck on the cheek and left.

* * *

Jace watched Ever go with a mild interest. She was beautiful, breath taking even, but she reminded him too much of Isabelle and that just hadn't worked well in his mind. And then there was the part where no girl before Clary had felt _right_. He wanted all those other girls but he didn't like them, didn't _need_ them, he didn't love them. All the others were just a blur of faces; most names long forgotten.

"How many girls have you been with?" Maia's voice was half amazed half disgusted.

"Am I counting girls I was with for more than a few days or do hook-ups count?" The party was moving out side and they soon found themselves packed between the creatures of his childhood nightmares.

"You know what I don't want to know."

"Why because you're not one of them?"

"You're unbelievable!"

"Why do I always have to be the ref? Can't you two just behave? For all the animosity around here you'd think Jace was the vampire." Simon stepped between them. "It would give me an excuse to–"

"What? Bite me?"

"You are such a d–" A scream. Not the kind you hear in the movies, but the gut-churning cry that cuts off abruptly in a gurgle; the last scream, the last sound, your last breath, the echo of a life ending suddenly.

_There's always a scream._

Within an instant Jace was in motion, his seraph blade out and already whispered awake. Simon and Maia kept hot on his heels, the weapons of their nature coming out around their human exterior. He was unsure if he was going the right way as he headed to the far side of the yard by the garden, but Simon nudged him forward. His nose was crinkled and his fangs were fully extended; he was menacing.

"This way."

"The garden could be described more as artistic chaos than organized. There were bushes and vines of every color and texture with flowers to match, all arranged around a circular stone slab. In the center of the circle was a pond, pink and white water lilies and lush clovers floated freely. The water was red.

Maia was the first to cry out when they came to the bloody mess; the claws that had extended from her fingertips dug into her palms. Silver leaves were scattered around almost as plentifully as the blood droplets, the black curs hiding a beautiful face contorted in horror. Her body lay limp, in impossible potions, barely attached; dead.

"Ever," Jace knelt down beside her, feeling a pain in his chest. He pushed it aside, his face hardened.

"Um we have company," Simon's voice sounded nervous. He turned around as Clary and Isabelle came into view from behind the azaleas, faces red and out of breath.

"Clary–" Jace began to get up but stopped seeing the cold shield over her eyes.

"Looks like we're having another bonfire," She said, pushing her hair from her face. "Is someone going to call Alec?"

"No need," They all spun around again, "I'm here. I'll get Magnus."

Maia was hysterical, her hands were shaking, her voice high. "How are you always her for this shit? It like you all have some kind of Shadowhunter mind powers!"

Simon looked at her anxiously, trying to calm her down, "I think you mean Jedi."

"What does it matter, she's dead! Dead! We were just talking to her and now she's dead!"

"I was with Alec when we heard the scream, "Isabelle said soothingly, "He must have gotten tuck behind someone. It's our job to get to where the danger is Maia. We protect."

"Well you were too late this time!"

"Shut up Maia." Everyone looked at Jace, their faces stunned, everyone but Clary who pulled him into her arms and too him away. His angel.

* * *

**So there it is. I've got the entire fic mapped out and I hope now that school is over I'll be able to bang out a bunch of chaps. I hope yall like it and thanx for those who have been commenting and supporting me. You're the best guys! R&R!**

**~TerrorLies Mourning**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey guys, yeah I know it's been way too long. I apologize. Things have been somewhat stressful and I found, no matter how much I wanted to, that I could not get this chapter out. Hopefully this makes up for it.**

**_

* * *

To the Death_**

Something was wrong, she almost felt it click out off place, and she felt it churn in her stomach. Jace fell into her arms and suddenly her own pain was meaningless, he was breaking apart and she didn't know how to save him. She'd felt this downward spiraling progressing for days now, could sense the little pieces that weren't moving as usual. Jace wasn't himself and she couldn't help but think that it was all her fault.

He folded in toward her, his thin muscular frame somehow fitting within her small embrace. His head rest on her shoulder and she could feel his shallow breaths on her neck. He held her close, his fingers bit into her hips as if she were the only thing holding him down. She clung to him tighter.

Clary could see Simon and Isabelle trying to calm Maia, forcing her to keep her back to the dead faerie in the pond, who was now falling to dust, her long, long life finally over.

She ran her fingers through his hair, saying nothing. Telling him it was okay would be redundant, it obviously wasn't. All she could do was be there.

"Clary," he whispered shakily, struggling to regain composure. "I can't–What if it had been…"

"I'm fine Jace. The entire Shadow World isn't out to kill me." She pulled away a little to see his face. "Now that Valentine's dead, the only danger I'm in is the one that comes with the job."

"But I don't want–"

"Don't–" She touched her fingertips to his lips. "Just don't Jace."

Something in his eyes tightened, he wanted to argue with her like he did every time she went out to kill demons with him. He always went out of his way to let her do as little as possible, and now he wanted her to leave because his spidey senses were tingling. Well that was just too damn bad.

Magnus decided on that moment to make his entrance. He strode in quickly, his hair spelled short and tipped with vibrant colors, clad in only platform shoes, tight red leather pants and suspenders. He looked like he was straight out of a strip club.

"Out of my way Nephilim," He knelt by the pool, summoning a number of vials and filling them with the fairie's remains.

Isabelle leaned over to watch, throwing dangerous glares to where Simon leaned over Maia, whispering quietly.

"Why exactly did Alec bring you? I mean it's cool you're here but–"

"Darling I'm a child of the Lillith. Do you understand how difficult it is to hide things from me? Alec was just saving you a lot of trouble. I can be a bitch when people don't tell me I have a rare opportunity to collect faerie samples. You can't exactly walk into the city and buy some. Though some Down Worlders find it amusing to sell it, I have seen some humans go insane after trying to get high from it, nasty side affects–"

"Magnus!" He turned to look at Clary, "You're rambling," She said still holding Jace.

Magnus snapped his mouth shut and sent the vials somewhere safe. He straightened up and looked at her, a smile playing the corner of his mouth. "Looking good Red, you should let Isabelle dress you more often."

She blushed as Jace looked at her suddenly, appraising what he saw.

"Coming from a gay man," She looked away from Jace's smoldering eyes, they were like liquid gold dripping with desire– "I'll take that as a compliment."

He put a delicate hand on his hip, his cat eyes pleased, "You should."

Clary suddenly felt exposed, she completely forgotten about her closes – well lack of – during all the action. Isabelle, despite her promise had forced her into a pair of strappy stilettos and drilled her until she could walk almost gracefully. A tight –and short – pencil skirt hugged her slim torso and only a skimpy blue sequent tank covered her chest. Her hair was ironed straight and fell in a silken curtain to the middle of her back. She was _so_ uncomfortable.

* * *

She looked _so_ hot. Simon cut off in comforting Maia midsentence. He along with everyone else had stopped to look at Clary after Magnus had mentioned her attire. He saw the hunger plain in Jace's eyes – mirroring his own. He'd rip out those eyes if they kept looking at her like _that_. His fangs poked into his lips.

_She's your friend, just your friend. Just like Jace._ He grimaced at the last part. She wasn't just a friend to _him_.

* * *

Clary saw Simon's face pucker and she looked away, thinking he didn't like what he saw. She knew she looked bad but Simon's reaction confirmed it. She felt naked, like Isabelle had taken a spray can and painted it all on. It all just screamed _Hi I'm Clary and yes I do work the corners._

Jace's fingers gripped her tighter; she refused to look up at him. After being with Jace she'd begun to accept her own beauty, to hone in on the ability to appear comfortable and sexy in her own skin. Even if she didn't always feel beautiful, if she walked down Broadway with her head high and pretending to feel so, it was impossible to not to notice all the heads that turned; which in turn – how could it not – made her feel better about herself. Clary was beautiful and she was finally seeing it; even if only for the briefest moments. _Feel free to touch, but it'll cost you. My boyfriend's a trained killer._

* * *

Jace leaned down and whispered something in her ear that made her blush a deeper scarlet than the one already coloring her face, but Simon didn't miss the smile and that mischievous, playful glint in her eyes that he'd seen only on girls like Isabelle; but never Clary. Never Clary.

Izzy had gone much simpler than Clary, almost as if she wanted to blend in, which was impossible. Her long hair fell in ebony ringlets down her back, and she wore a subtle Egyptian-esk mid-thigh length toga, a thin gold chain hugging her slim waist. She was even wearing flats, it must have been the first time he hadn't seen her in heels.

A memory played in the back of his head. He and Isabelle had just been lying in his room. She was twirling his hair between her delicate fingers; he'd liked the feeling of them grazing his scalp.

_What was it that made you fall in love with her?_ She'd asked suddenly.

_Who?_ He'd smiled wrapping his hands around her waist. He remembered she'd blushed, something he never thought was possible for her.

_Clary_. She turned her face away from him dropping her hands from his hair. _You know what, it was a stupid question; it's not my place–_

_She was beautiful without even knowing or trying. She was kind, and shy like I was, but she could stand up for her self and didn't take anyone's shit. Somehow when we went out and everyone else around her was dressed outrageously and all the girls looked like Succubus's, Clary was still the only one I saw._ He caressed her cheek.

_Boys only see me when I dress outrageously_, She'd giggled, trying to make it seem like she was just poking fun at herself, but he'd seen the pain, the feeling of insecurity that somehow made her even more beautiful for him.

_You don't need to do anything outrageous to make me see you._

When he turned back to Maia only half a second later, her mouth was set in a thin line as she looked from Clary's petite figure to Isabelle's full one.

_Great._

"Maia, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," She snapped, the shaking in her voice gone, "Why don't you go cozy up with your Shadow Hunter whores? When they go all Xena Warrior Princess on your ass don't say I didn't warn you." She had, time and time again since she'd seen what they could do during Valentine's War.

She stalked out of the garden, averting her eyes from the concaving figure in the water. The body was almost unrecognizable, and the blood seemed to be dissolving into whatever surface it had splattered upon; the perfect murder.

Isabelle tried to hide her smugness, but failed miserably. These girls were going to kill him.

"Am I Xena or is Clary?"

"I think we both are. Izzy we are such BAMF's," The two of them high-fived.

"One," Magnus looked at them with raised eyebrows, "Did you really just say '_BAMF's_'? Two, you two look like the seven year old Asians from the Olympics when you high-five."

"Your right," Isabelle held up a fist to Clary, "Fist pounds are where it's at." The girls giggled as that hit fists.

"That is one steamed she wolf." Jace had regained his badass exterior, standing tall with an arm snaked around Clary's waist. His confidence was so stunning it was making it hard to picture him as vulnerable as he'd been moments before, in fact the image was slipping away from him entirely. In the morning it would seem an impossibility. Then again there might not be a morning.

"I just love the smell of decaying faerie, don't you Amigo?"

He didn't need to turn around, he knew who was there. _Fuck my life_.

* * *

"Jace, get Clary and Izzy out of here." Simon was tense; his fists were balled at his sides.

Isabelle looked from him to Jace and the figure standing in the shadows behind him in the shadows.

"Simon what's going on? Jace?"

"Isabelle lets go." Jace grabbed her arm and started pulling her away, gripping Clary to his side as he tried to lead her out of the garden.

"_Raphael_," Clary was struggling to escape the grip of Jace's other hand. "What's wrong, why is Simon making us leave?"

"Magnus, Alec, a little help?" Jace growled. The two lovers both stepped quickly to Jace's side. Magnus putting himself between the girls and Simon, Alec making a move to grab Isabelle's other hand.

But, being much more experienced in the art of evasion, Isabelle was able to wiggle away and dart past Magnus and her brother to run to Simon's side. Alec turned to pull her away, but Magnus held him back, shaking his head slightly, his mouth a firm line.

"You can't make me leave. I can help."

"And so can _I_. I'm sick and tired of you all treating me like a toddler." Jace was now using both hands to hold Clary back.

"No offence Clary, but the tantrum isn't helping-"

"Shut up Alec. Jace Lightwood let me go _now_. That's my best friend over there–"

Raphael leaned against the stone wall lazily, examining his flawless nails. He spoke in a monotone, "You didn't tell them Day Lighter? How inconsiderate of you. Shall _I_ tell them?"

"Stop."

Figures clad in all black began to step out of the darkness, closing off the only way out of the garden in which his friends could have escaped. They all looked upon him with looks of desperation and excitement. He saw Luce among the crowd; she gave him a stiff nod, which he returned begrudgingly.

Alec finally seemed to sense the danger, but it was too late. He could see that Isabelle would not budge. He looked at Magnus who was surveying the entire situation through narrowed eyes. He put a firm hand on Alec's shoulder.

"Well the angel boy obviously knows–"

"Jace–"

"Raph–"

"Simon is going to die tonight." His fangs protruded from his mouth, slicing right through his lip. Blood dribbled down his face onto his white shirt.

Clary went limp, falling into Jace's always waiting arms, "Wh–what?"

* * *

Isabelle instinctively put herself between the two vampires. Standing so close to Simon, the proximity of his cool skin gave her goose bumps. He wasn't breathing. That meant he was nervous; not good. She felt her own pulse in her neck and was sure that both vampires could hear it too, feel it. She drove the fear away, as all good Shadow Hunters do, and pushed forward into the danger.

"Explain yourself blood sucker."

Raphael smiled, "It won't matter in a few minutes–"

"Talk. _Now_."

"Izzy let it go–"

"Shut _up_ Jace. Hasn't anyone told you? You talk too much."

Simon put a hand on her waist and leaned down to speak in her ear.

"Isabelle, please. You need to go."

She looked at him with wide eyes, "I can't just leave you–"

"Yes you can–"

"–I love you." She looked as surprised as Simon to have said it. Everything stopped, as if the world was holding it's breath. She loved him.

"How cute. Too bad you won't live long enough to do anything about it." Raphael lunched, but it wasn't Simon his teeth were targeted at, it was Isabelle.

* * *

He sent a quiet prayer to the God he could not address aloud, for if it hadn't been for this curse and the training with Jace, he wouldn't of had the speed or the skill to step in front of her, and slam his hand into his makers deadly jaw.

Raphael went flying through the rose bushes, revealing the brick wall that Simon could now see surrounded them. The vampire slumped to the ground the wall cracked and indented with the shape of his lean body.

_It can't be this easy_. Simon was on the balls of his feet. His eyes were telling him that Raphael was down and out, but reason was telling him not to move. Raphael's neck was bent in an impossible position; blood was trickling down his chin. His right elbow was bent fully outward, several ribs poked through his chest.

_One of those ribs could have pierced his heart_. But still Simon didn't move, reason proved right.

The cackle that tore through the vampire's bloody mouth was almost maniac. Simon fought not to flinch as he snapped his neck and arm back into place. Their audience was so quiet it was like they weren't there; somehow that made it even more terrifying.

* * *

**Well it wasn't that long and definitely not my best, and I can't guarantee that the next chapter will be any better or be written any sooner. But hopefully it was enough to keep you interested.**

_**~TerrorLies**_


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